Whispers of Death
by BurningSilence
Summary: A young Imperial with a dubious past joins the Dark Brotherhood looking for a place to belong. She didn’t know about the struggle that lay ahead of her, or the conflicting feelings she would develop towards the last person she has left.


**Title: **Whispers of Death

**Author: **BurningSilence

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the rights to TES IV: Oblivion, I doubt I'd have the money issues that I do.

**Summary:** Another Dark Brotherhood quest line story. A young Imperial with a dubious past joins the Dark Brotherhood looking for a place to belong. She didn't know about the struggle that lay ahead of her, or the conflicting feelings she would develop towards the last person she has.

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* * *

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Chapter I: To Resist or Serve

"It's nice to be back home," Drusilla murmured as she stood in the living room of her home in Anvil. Well, it wasn't necessarily _her_ home; it had belonged to her parents before they'd passed on. Her mother died from a sudden fever when she had been only a child, and her father two years ago at the hands of marauders while he was exploring an old Alyeid ruin, leaving Drusilla to her own devices at the young age of seventeen.

Needless to say for the next couple years the young girl fell into a rough crowd, did something stupid, and that was how the Dark Brotherhood, or more specifically Lucien Lachance, had found her. Of course, that was only a few months ago. During that time, she'd stayed in Cheydinhal, sometimes in the Sanctuary, other times in 'Newlands Lodge'. After all, she didn't want to waste all of the money she'd earned from her contracts on a more expensive establishment.

Antoinetta had asked once why she didn't stay in the Sanctuary on a more permanent basis, to which the young Imperial had answered, "I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night to hear Gogron and Telaendril enjoying each other…_again_." Her friend just laughed and clapped her on the back.

And while Drusilla absolutely _adored_ Cheydinhal, she had missed the beaches of Anvil County, the sounds of the sea gulls, and the ocean air that cooled the region off after a hot summer day. She'd need to report back to Cheydinhal soon enough, but for now, she'd enjoy the time she had to herself before her duties as an Eliminator called her back.

She idly wondered if she'd see any of her old gang while she was in town; she did miss them so. She wandered into the kitchen, checking the cupboards and taking stock of what she'd need to buy while she was here. She couldn't very well live on cheese and her father's wine collection.

Drusilla looked outside her window as she pinned up her strawberry-blonde hair. The shops should still be open, so buying some food wouldn't be a problem, and she may even be able to stop by a clothier and look at any new fashions that may have come in. She straightened up the kitchen before she left the house, locking the door securely as was her wont. She tended to be slightly paranoid…although considering the people she had consorted with, it wasn't exactly irrational.

Walking through the streets of her old hometown brought a wave of nostalgia over the young woman, and she was thankful for the reprieve she received from Ocheeva after taking care of Phillida for the Brotherhood. She'd been away from her childhood residence for too long, now. She knew she couldn't stay indefinitely, but she would make the most of the time she had here while she could.

As she walked around the town's Waterfront, she overheard a group of people talking about a ship that had recently docked in the harbour. The ship was rumoured to be haunted by the angry spirits of the crew. Apparently, someone had snuck aboard and had taken the crew unawares.

Drusilla sighed; it seemed as if _everything_ was haunted in Anvil, now, including that house that that idiot Velwyn Benirus was trying to sell for a suspiciously low price. As if no one would think there was something wrong with his family manor with the price set at five thousand Septims. Everyone in town knew the old bastard who'd lived there went barmy in his 'quest for immortality'.

He was probably going to try to sell it to some poor twit who had never been in Anvil for any real length of time.

She stepped into 'The Flowing Bowl' and was about to step up to the publican when she heard a woman gasp.

"_Drusilla_? Drusilla Fidelus? Is that really you?"

Her head snapped towards the voice and her gaze came to rest on a dark-haired Imperial woman with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Faustina Cartia! What are you doing here?" Drusilla asked, genuinely surprised. She hoped she still wasn't baiting bored, married men.

"Me and Signy…"

"Signy and I," the younger corrected absently, earning her a playful glare from her old friend.

"_Signy and I_ were just out looking for a...companion for tonight," Faustina simpered, smoothing non-existent flyaway hairs.

Drusilla rolled her eyes. Once upon a time she'd played an active role in Faustina's little 'Siren' gang, tricking and robbing gullible men, but she'd quickly grown dissatisfied with herself. She'd preferred to rough it up with the sailors that would come around, which had unfortunately earned her a distasteful reputation. Not that hanging around with Faustina and Signy had been any better.

"It hasn't been the same with out you," the brunette sang, winking at the girl.

"I'm sure you're doing just fine with out me," the lighter girl retorted, a small smile gracing her lips.

"Well, that _is_ true, but we still miss you all the same. Where have you been anyway?" Faustina asked, in an accusatory tone.

"I've been busy, I ran into a bit of trouble, and had to leave town for awhile," she huffed. It wasn't _exactly_ a lie. What was she supposed to say? That one day, one of the sailors she had been cavorting with had gotten a bit grabby with her, and in her anger she'd killed him thus resulting in her becoming a member of the Dark Brotherhood.

She didn't think that would go over well.

Faustina held up her hands in a placating gesture, "Alright, no need to get defensive, darling."

"You should be careful…doing what you do," Drusilla said suddenly, looking down. "It's dangerous. You won't always know what kind of man you're dealing with."

The older woman wrapped an arm around the girl's waist, "Are you worried about us, Dru?"

"Of course I am," the blonde snapped. "Just because we don't run in the same circle anymore, doesn't mean I don't care about you. You're one of my dearest friends. I would be terribly distraught if something were to happen to you."

"Don't worry about us, _you_ were the one who had to flee town, remember?"

"Yes, and I doubt you'll ever let me forget it."

"Hmm, yes, I do suppose you're right about that," Faustina laughed. "Well, I guess I better let you get back to what ever it was that you were doing then. Other than you, I don't see anyone that interesting in here today."

Drusilla sniffed, "I suppose I should feel flattered?"

"Oh yes, tremendously so."

"You're hopeless. Now, scoot. I need to buy some food. Unless you want me dropping in unexpectedly at your house to con a meal out of you."

* * *

A few days had passed since Drusilla's initial run-in with Faustina, and the blonde was in unusually high spirits. She had met up with a couple old friends (she'd even got to see Signy…who had, unsurprisingly, acquired the moniker 'home-wrecker'), got some shopping done, and cleaned up her house a bit. As she was heading home after spending the day at the beach, for the moment, she was feeling a tad carefree…until she noticed somebody standing in front of her house. She sighed; she had no idea what this was about. Whoever he was, he looked like an ordinary street urchin, but she gripped her dagger anyway as she stepped closer.

"Who are you," she bit out, glaring for good measure.

The young wood elf swallowed visibly, "A-are you Drusilla?"

She regarded him cautiously, "Who's asking?"

"I-I was just t-told to deliver this to y-you, miss," the boy stuttered, thrusting a sealed letter towards Drusilla.

She gingerly took the letter from the Bosmer, and he ran off before she could ask anymore questions. She turned the note over only to see the wax seal with the trademark hand insignia for the Black Hand faction.

She sighed once more; she'd better open this up inside. She should've known she wouldn't have been able to stay in Anvil very long.

Stepping inside, she locked her door and opened up the letter, leaning against the wall for support.

"Eliminator, you have served the Dark Brotherhood well in the short time you've been with us. Indeed the rate of your advancement has been rather remarkable, blah, blah, blah…" she trailed off, continuing to read the rest of the letter in silence. Then she looked at the letter with raised eyebrows and stated in disbelief, "Head to Fort Farragut?"

She glanced outside, and saw the sun begin to dip below the horizon. She wanted to wait until tomorrow…she really did. However, it would be a long trip; it would take three days at a comfortable pace, two days if she really pushed herself _and_ her horse to get back to Cheydinhal. It worried her that Lucien specifically told her to _not _speak of this letter to anyone in the Sanctuary, or of her trip to his hideout.

Drusilla tilted her head back against the wall as she tucked the letter into one of the pockets in her skirt. She'd need to leave right away if she wanted to make good time. As she packed up her satchel, she worried her lip between her teeth as she thought about what Lucien might want. She hadn't seen their Speaker since before she became an Eliminator, his summons had come as quite a surprise and, she'd admit; she was conflicted between pleasure in seeing Lucien again, and anxiety for not knowing _why_ he wanted to see her so urgently. By the tone of his letter, it couldn't be anything good.

After making sure she had all of the supplies she'd need for her trip, she exited her house; and yet again, securely locked the door behind her. She exited the town via the north gate. If she arrived at 'Horse Whisperer Stables' early enough, she could get Astrophel, her father's white horse, with out much fuss. Unfortunately the poor boy was getting a bit old…fifteen years old this upcoming Sun's Dawn. She supposed she would need to find a new horse soon, which was a thought she didn't enjoy entertaining.

Walking up to the stable, she saw Ernest sitting outside looking very disgruntled…it looked as if the Redguard hadn't had a decent night's sleep lately. She put a smile on her face and was about to address the man when he scowled at her and stated, "You'd better be taking your horse overnight; I'm not staying up late just to stable him again."

Biting back her irritation, she replied as politely as she could, "Don't worry about it; I'll be gone for awhile."

The Redguard didn't say anything; he just grunted a response and gestured to her horse.

'Oh, don't get up, I'll do it myself,' she thought viciously. She mounted Astrophel and started out on The Gold Road. If she could make it, she'd stop in Skingrad for the night before continuing on to Cheydinhal…she would just need to continue on no matter how tired she was. It would be best to get…whatever this was over with.

* * *

"Finally," she breathed as she stopped her horse outside the entrance to Fort Farragut. It was funny, she'd known it was there the whole time, but she had no idea what was inside of it. It figured Lucien would live some place like this; she figured it must've suited his demeanor.

She dismounted and pushed the heavy doors open…

…only to have an arrow fired at her.

Drusilla growled in frustration and ducked behind a stone pillar; in her exhaustion, she'd forgotten her Speaker's warnings about the creatures that guarded his refuge. She heard the faint hissing that was usually emitted by a skeleton guardian, and noticed it was coming closer with every dull 'thud' from its footsteps. She firmly gripped the steel short sword at her side and, as quietly as she could, unsheathed it.

She wouldn't be able to sneak past this one…but maybe she could maneuver her way around any others that might be inside the fort. Steeling herself, she jumped in front of the guardian who'd been making its way towards her and swung her sword to sever its neck. That was usually the tricky thing with the skeleton undead; you usually had to _beat_ them with whatever weapon you had on you until they, literally, fell apart. Very rare was it that one would be able to 'kill' one on the first try.

Glancing up, she noticed another skeleton with its bow trained on her. She hadn't noticed a way to get up to the overhead he was stationed at, so her only option was to run past him through the front room and down the hall.

Once she got into the hallway, she stopped to catch her breath, and to survey her surroundings. Looking around, she noticed several perforations in the wall and sighed. 'Dart traps,' she thought resignedly. She cautiously stepped into its 'trigger' range and jumped back as it started firing. However, she didn't jump back fast enough to avoid being nicked by at least one of the darts. She clutched her injured arm and waiting for the trap to, temporarily, run out of projectiles before she raced across it.

"This is a dangerous place to live," she muttered, wrapping her arm to staunch the bleeding. She heard faint footsteps farther down the hallway. She continued on as quietly as she could, and noticed another skeleton. She watched it for a little while, hoping to find a way to sneak past it, since it would be more of a hindrance to fight with her injured arm.

When the path looked clear, she ducked behind a stone pillar, and waited again for the skeleton to pass her. She entered a long corridor that looked to have a hole blocking the way. There seemed to be a way around it, though. She hoped it wouldn't regret her decision to take it.

* * *

Five traps and two more skeleton guards later, Drusilla finally found herself outside of what looked like Lucien's chambers…if the tapestry with the Black Hand emblem was anything to go by.

Pulling the lever to open the gate, she stumbled through looking a little worse for wear. Her face was bruised and blood was seeping through a couple of the make-shift bandages that wrapped her arm and leg. And she had a terrible headache, which didn't improve her disposition. She was…rather upset at this point. If she had thought it would make sense, she would have been sure this was some cruel joke played on her by her Speaker. She wanted to scream in frustration

"Ah, I see you've made it," Lucien stated, stepping away from his desk.

She wanted to slap him.

The black clad man looked the Eliminator over and smirked. She looked positively _enraged_. Her fists clenching at her sides; bloodstained and bruised. She walked closer to him with a slight limp. She must've been hit with one of the maces.

"You wanted to see me?" she bit out, looking at him accusingly. She shuffled towards the bad on the opposite side, and then looked back at Lucien. "Do you mind if I sit?"

The smug bastard gestured '_go ahead_' towards his bed.

She wanted to strangle him.

However, that didn't stop her from sitting down with a grateful sigh; she just hurt so much, and it _was_ a relief to finally get off of her feet…and to be able to go through her pack for a health potion.

Lucien seemed to be giving her a few moments of peace in order for her to get her bearings. 'Thank the gods for small mercies,' she thought, grimacing with distaste as she gulped down a mild potion.

"Feeling better?" he questioned, his tone glib.

Drusilla fought a scowl, and just nodded in reply.

"Then I presume you're able to listen to what I have to say," he said, although the blonde wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question. He turned serious and stood directly in front of her, looking down. "There is a…situation that needs to be taken care of. The Black Hand has learned that the Dark Brotherhood has been infiltrated. By whom and for what purpose, we do not know…Yet. What we do know is that there is some link between the traitor and the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. _My_ Sanctuary. The traitor has tainted that place beyond repair."

He paused, most likely so the young woman could let the information sink in before he continued. "Apparently, the traitor has been active for quite some time, since before you joined the Brotherhood. That absolves you of any suspicion."

She felt a stone weighing her stomach down as is words sank in. 'Absolves…me. Just me, he said…' she thought miserably, not liking where her thoughts were going. She stood up, ignoring her protesting muscles and looked directly into his eyes, "It couldn't be _any_ of them! No one there could possibly do what you're suggesting. None of them!"

His eyes narrowed slightly and he gripped her injured arm tightly, causing her to cry out. "Listen well, child," he spoke his voice deceptively soft. "You have been chosen to perform the ancient rite of Purification. _Everyone_ inside the Sanctuary must die. I understand your reservations, I _do_," he stated when he saw her open her mouth to argue, gripping her arm even tighter. "This is an…unexpected turn of events, I know, but drastic measures must be taken."

Drusilla pulled her arm out of Lucien's grasp, causing her wound to reopen, and cradled it against her slighter frame. She knew she would do it…she didn't really have a choice, no matter how much she protested or how logical an argument she made. They would all have to die…

'And I'll have no one left,' she thought, tears stinging behind her eyes. In that moment, she _hated_ Lucien, for taunting her with the promise of family only to cruelly rip it away from her, for even _thinking_ that it was anyone in the Sanctuary…for making her his tool in this whole mess.

"How long do I have?" she asked dully.

"How long for what?" his gaze softened imperceptibly.

"Before I have to kill them."

"It's best to do it soon. We can't afford for anyone's suspicions to be aroused," he clarified.

"Can I get some rest first? Or should I go now, like this?" she gestured to her injuries. "Perhaps if I'm lucky, maybe one of them will kill me. Then where would you be?" she taunted, wanting to lash out in anyway should could. Not that she thought her criticism would even graze the stoicism Lucien wore like a suit of armour.

As soon as the anger filled her, it dissolved just as suddenly, leaving her to feel empty…numb. She would fulfill Lachance's orders, there was no doubt about that, but it would leave her alone…again. Sacrifice was something she was becoming increasingly accustomed to. She slumped back down on his bed, wanting to close her eyes and never wake up. To slip into the same deadened lethargy that had claimed her after her father's death. The decisions she made this time couldn't possibly be worse than the ones she made then. She brought a second health potion out and downed it before discarding the empty bottle.

She hunched over, bringing her forehead to her knees, as she finally let her tears fall as she felt her wounds finish healing. She would not sob, though, wouldn't give in to such childishness. "I hate you so much right now," she whispered, keeping her head down. She sighed when she felt gloved fingers stroking her hair, removing the bun she'd piled it all into. She wanted to flinch away, but she take comfort anywhere she could get it at this point.

"The Purification needs to be complete by tomorrow; you can have one more night with them if you desire it," he murmured, his tone uncharacteristically kind. Not that he'd ever been cruel to her, out side of tonight. But he wasn't what one would describe as sweet, either.

Shaking off the attention, she stood up and began to gather her hair up once again. "Is there anything else," she inquired, adjusting her pack over her shoulder, eyes still downcast.

With Drusilla's aloof stance, whatever moment that might have taken place was lost and Lucien straightened his back. "When you've finished your task, come back here and we'll discuss your future."

'If I even have one,' she thought bitterly. Aloud, she asked, "Is there another way I can get out of here?"

He just pointed to a ladder that's hanging down from the ceiling, where as she follows its path upwards, notices a trap door. She blushed prettily, feeling foolish for not noticing it sooner, and mutters an "Oh," and departed, glancing back towards Lucien once more before she emerged out of a hollowed out tree trunk.

* * *

It was with a heavy heart that she entered the Cheydinhal Sanctuary where she was greeted by Antoinetta Marie. Out of everyone in the Sanctuary, she got along best with the older Breton. Of course, the one time Drusilla brought up the fact that Antoinetta was older; the other blonde wouldn't speak to her for several hours. Which, after having gotten to know Antoinetta, was quite a feat.

Drusilla thought that she'd regret killing Antoinetta most of all. Especially since it was practically common knowledge that the Breton was in love with Lucien. How would she feel knowing her beloved Speaker was ordering her and all of the other members of the Sanctuary's deaths?

"How was you're break? As short as it was, I'm sure you got _some_ use out of it," Antoinetta chirped.

"Oh, it was wonderful," Drusilla responded truthfully. "I went back to Anvil and was able to visit with a few old friends of mine. It was…nice. Like going back home." She paused when she thought about what she said, and then laughed, "Which I suppose it was, seeing as how I actually went back to my old home." Rubbing the back of her neck, she smiled up at Antoinetta.

It drove her crazy she was the shortest one in the Sanctuary…even Telaendril was taller! Granted…it wasn't by much.

As the two women walked towards the training room, M'raaj-dar stepped up to Drusilla and asked if he could speak with her. Drusilla was immediately suspicious, but told Antoinetta she'd talk with her later and turned to face the Khajiit mage.

It was several minutes before M'raaj-dar said anything. When he did, he gave her a small, hesitant smile and said, "I've been thinking, and…well, I just wanted to say…I'm sorry for the way I've treated you in the past." He looked down again, seemingly embarrassed and Drusilla felt her heart plummet…why was he doing this _now_? He continued, unaware of her chaotic thoughts, "You've obviously proven yourself a valuable member of this Sanctuary. So…I was wondering if we could start over?"

Her body seemed to move on its own accord, because she found herself smiling and nodding at his suggestion, even while she was screaming at herself for doing so. She couldn't do this anymore…she couldn't wait until tomorrow. If she waited, she'd never get it done, and if she didn't kill them…well, who knew who the Black Hand would give the job to. The least she could do for them is let them think that they were murdered by an assassin who went rogue. She didn't want them to know their own guild, their _family_, were the ones that ordered their deaths.

It was with these thoughts in her head that she gripped her dagger; the very same one Lucien Lachance had presented her with, and plunged it into M'raaj-dar's throat.

* * *

It was past four in the morning when Drusilla made it back to Fort Farragut. Gogron and Vicente had proven to be the most difficult to kill…but when it became clear to Vicente he wasn't getting out of the situation alive, he seemed to…relax. Almost as if he'd found some sort of peace. Not Gogron, though…especially since he'd walked in just after she'd killed Telaendril. Antoinetta was the worst, though. She had been the last to be murdered.

"_Why sister?! What did we do?"_

When she'd completed her mission, she left the Sanctuary through the well exit, and promptly evacuated he stomach contents. After she'd calmed down a bit, she made her way to the Fort.

Using the hidden entrance, she climbed down into Lucien's chambers and found him sitting at his desk. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"I told you that you didn't have to do it tonight," he informed her.

She clenched her teeth, wanting to proclaim her hatred, her anger, but bit her tongue. In all likelihood, those feelings would pass. She couldn't hate Lucien forever…but she wanted to. Gods, did she want to.

"I couldn't pretend everything was alright, even if it was to make myself feel better. They deserved a better end than what I gave them," she muttered, still feeling raw.

"You did what you had to. What you were _ordered_ to," he stated simply as he stood up, letting her know that under no uncertain terms was she to ever disobey him. "And, despite your reluctance, you completed your task, and the time has come to acknowledge and reward your loyalty," his tone became a bit more jovial. It made her want to scream. He walked towards her and stood in front of her. "The Black Hand is most pleased with your progress. You have been invited to share in secrets that few in the Dark Brotherhood even know exist. I'm sure you've been able to infer that your time in the Sanctuary is over, that those contracts are behind you. Now, you will serve the Black Hand. You will serve _me_."

Drusilla had a feeling saying 'no' was not an option. She kept her eyes trained on the ground as he continued.

"From now on, you will walk in the shadows as my Silencer," he placed a hand on her shoulder, surprised when she didn't shrug it off. When his words sank in, she snapped her head up in surprise.

It was the position Antoinetta had so desperately wanted, even while she said she wanted to be Sanctuary Mistress, everyone knew she really wanted to be Lucien's Silencer. However, those thoughts just brought another wave of nausea to Drusilla's stomach.

"You'll receive contracts only from me, now. They'll be scattered throughout Cyrodiil at dead drop locations; you'll receive a letter that will tell you the location of your first dead drop, and after that, just follow the directions on the order. It will contain information on where your next dead drop will be. Do you understand?" he asked.

The woman felt weary, but she nodded all the same. He smiled slightly and went on.

"After this, you and I will see very little of each other and only when I deem it necessary…"

He didn't get to finish because Drusilla cut him off with a harsh slap.

"You bastard!" she yelled, even as she looked vaguely surprised. She knew it was only by dumb luck she landed that blow; Lucien had been too distracted and it had happened to suddenly for him to have caught it. She didn't think she'd have the opportunity again. "You make me kill off my family, the only one I've had since…since…and you would just abandon me? Still? Even though it's your fault I'm..." she trailed off, her sudden surge of adrenaline dwindling.

She clenched her fists at her side and screwed her eyes shut. She shouldn't have lost her temper like that; what had she been thinking? But that was the problem, she hadn't been thinking. She could never think clearly where the Speaker was involved. And he…he would just dismiss her. She didn't matter; she was merely a tool, a weapon to him. _For_ him.

She would be all alone, until something was needed from her. Or until she screwed up. Which ever came first, she supposed.

Before she realized what was happening, she felt Lucien's hands on her arms, gripping painfully and he shook her once. "Don't you _ever_ raise your hand to me again! You're fortunate I even took the time to mention you were too recent an addition to have been involved in the treachery that has taken place within our family," he practically snarled at her.

She could see he was furious, and for a moment, she was truly afraid of him. She railed against her survival instincts that practically demanded her to cower and beg. She was angry and had every right to stay angry.

Unfortunately, she could feel a sob building up in her throat. She bit the inside of her mouth harshly to keep it contained, but to no avail. It escaped with out her consent when Lucien released her arms. She brought her hands up to her mouth to stifle her cries when she started mumbling something that he almost missed

"I'm sorry."

But after she said it, she looked up and stared hard at him through teary, blue eyes and stated defiantly, "But I do not apologize for my anger. You deserve it. You _know_ that none of the current Sanctuary members would have betrayed the Dark Brotherhood. You knew it, and you still let the Black Hand order their deaths." He watched, slightly amused when her face took on the appearance of someone who had just sucked a lemon. "However…I do thank you for clearing me of suspicion," she finished, looking away from his dark, piercing gaze. "I was out of line, I shouldn't have struck you. You've been good to me…and…don't take this the wrong way…but, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"It would take more than a _slap_ from my Silencer to do me any harm," he said, ignoring the sting her palm left behind. "I've gotten mosquito bites that have hurt worse."

She crossed her arms and huffed, trying to look haughty but failing due to the tear tracks still streaking her face. "Well, there's no need to be rude, now. I'll have you know I've made bigger men than you cry," she sniffled.

Drusilla had been right about her anger towards her Speaker; she could already feel it draining away from her. After her little outburst, she was able to see the situation a bit more clearly. Oh, it still hurt to think that she'd killed her family, her friends…but she was able to understand why it had to happen. She sighed, feeling a tad guilty.

"It was horrible," she murmured, reliving the events that took place just a couple hours prior. "I couldn't disassociate myself from them." She looked up at Lucien again, "Why would you have _me_ do it? Surely you could have gotten somebody else…"

He waved his hand to stop her. "I could have," he confessed. "But my previous Silencer died while fulfilling a contract, and this situation was a good way for you to prove yourself. Perhaps someday you'll come to see that I did you a…favour, if you will."

She didn't _want_ to think of it that way. She essentially killed off her family for a promotion. She was reminded of a sailor's quote she'd heard awhile ago…something along the lines of praying for 'death and a quick promotion'. If the situation hadn't been so distressing, it might have been humourous.

As her anger faded, so did her energy, and she found herself ready to collapse into a dead faint if she didn't get some sleep. Lucien seemed to noticed and directed her towards the bed.

"You can rest here for now, Silencer. I have some business to attend to, so your rest won't be interrupted. I'll be back before you wake up, to finish our conversation," he stated in a voice that disallowed any arguments. Not that she wanted to argue.

No, she was far to tired to even think of disagreeing with her Speaker. As she settled down under the covers, she heard Lucien leave. In the quiet of the fort, one thought surfaced in the muddled hodgepodge of her consciousness.

She had mattered enough to Lucien for him to keep her alive.

Perhaps she wasn't as alone as she thought she was.

**

* * *

**

A/N:

I know…I shouldn't be starting another story…not when I haven't updated 'Vicissitudes'…but I am still writing it. In fact, after writing this chapter, I think I know what I want to do with the rest of Chapter Ten at last. This is a bit of an experiment for me, I've never written a character like Drusilla before (originally, her name was going to be Drusa, but I decided that would be her mother's name, hence the –illa suffix for the daughter). As always, feed back is _extremely_ welcome. Including constructive criticism. I hope everyone enjoys reading this ^_^. Oh, and pardon any grammar or spelling mistakes, I went over this a couple times, but I wouldn't be surprised if I _still_ missed some things. Please be gentle...this story is a bit of an experiment for me, and I have no confidence right now -_-. But I decided to bite the bullet and post anyway. 


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